Magnificent Men and Flying Machines
by Joseph Haney
Summary: The trio has their new mission: Make sure Charles Lindbergh's solo flight across the Atlantic Ocean goes off without a hitch. What could possibly go wrong? Requested by retro mania
1. Chapter 1

Lucy Preston was the last member of the team to arrive in the conference room, interrupting what appeared to be an intense discussion. "Sorry I'm late," she said, setting her bag down and giving Rufus and Wyatt a nod. "Traffic was a nightmare. Where are we heading this time?" she asked, deciding it was best to just rip off the band-aid.

"Long Island," Agent Christopher responded, pulling up the readings they'd traced from Flynn's time machine. "May of 1927."

"Any insights on what Flynn's going to try to do there?" Wyatt asked, folding his arms across his chest.

"Depends," Lucy said with a small frown. "What day in May?"

"May 19th," Connor Mason answered.

Lucy nodded. "Well…nothing comes to mind on that day, but on May 20, Charles Lindbergh takes off for his solo flight across the Atlantic. Flynn might be trying to stop that."

The room fell into silence as everyone in the room – Wyatt, Christopher, Rufus Carlin, and Connor Mason – all exchanged glances.

"What?" Lucy asked, feeling as though she was missing something.

"This is kind of small scale for Flynn, isn't it?" Rufus asked. "I mean…his plays up to now have involved killing a bunch of key people on the Hindenberg, handing Von Braun over to the Russians, and turning the Alamo into a historical footnote."

"He went to Vegas in the sixties to steal a nuclear reactor to power his ship," Wyatt pointed out. "He could be there for something like that."

"What, he just parked in 1927 for a tune up?" Rufus asked.

Lucy shook her head. "I don't think so," she said "Lindbergh's flight was a big step toward commercial air travel becoming a thing. I mean…that would have probably happened without him. All it would take is someone else making the flight…but this would be a setback. And with the great depression just a few years away, who knows when someone would be able to make that flight. And then there's the Lindbergh baby case and all of that impact going away as well."

"Linbergh baby case?" Wyatt asked.

"Five years after his flight, in March of 1932, Charles and Anne Lindbergh's two year old son was kidnapped from their home in East Amwell, New Jersey," Lucy explained, moving to the computer to pull up the information. "There was a ransom demand, a massive investigation involving the FBI, which was the first time they'd been used to investigate a kidnapping…All because of Lindbergh's celebrity. Kidnapping is now a federal crime because of this case, because of the attention it got."

Wyatt nodded. "So…Lindbergh doesn't fly across the Atlantic, commercial air travel and federal kidnapping laws take a hit?" he asked, his tone indicating he wanted to make sure he understood.

Lucy confirmed it with a nod. "Not to mention all of the chain reaction effects of those changes." She looked to Rufus. "It may be small scale, but we need to make sure Lindbergh takes off on May 20th lands in Paris on the 21st. I couldn't begin to imagine what sort of ripple effect this might cause."

"I get it," Rufus said, standing. "Let's go change into some period appropriate itchy clothing." He made his way out of the room.

Wyatt moved to do the same as did Lucy.

"Miss Preston, may we have a word?" Conner said.

Wyatt stopped in the doorway, looking to Lucy. She gave him a small nod. "I'll be right down," she said. "Don't leave without me," she added, forcing a small smile at her lame joke.

Wyatt offered an obligatory half smile before nodding and continuing on his way.

Lucy closed the conference room door and turned to their handlers. "What is it?" she asked.

"Is everything alright?" he asked. "You're not usually so late."

"I'm fine," Lucy said. "Like I said, traffic was insane. Is that all?"

Connor and Agent Christopher exchanged a glance and gave a small nod. "You can understand our concern," Agent Christopher said. "Given how important this mission is."

"I'm fine," Lucy insisted. "And the longer we stand here, the more time Flynn has to do whatever he's going to do."

"Of course," Connor said. "You can go."

Lucy nodded and left the conference room to change. She then made her way to the ship, where Wyatt and Rufus were settling in for the trip.

"Everything alright?" Wyatt asked as Lucy slid into her seat across from him.

"Everything's fine," Lucy said, attempting to buckle her strap.

"Just making sure," Wyatt said as he leaned in to strap her in. "You look good in that dress by the way."

"It's the same one I wore to the Hindenberg," she said with a small shrug.

Wyatt gave a small nod and sat back, strapping in.

"If you two are done with the chit-chat, we're ready to go," Rufus said, pushing some buttons as the door to the machine closed. Lucy closed her eyes, bracing herself for the unfortunately familiar sensation of a massive weight on her chest, the air being forced from her lungs, the loud rushing in her ears, and the general feeling of nausea and wishing for death.

It ended almost as suddenly as it began and she took in a gasp of air as soon as her lungs decompressed. She fumbled with the strap, unbuckling herself and moving toward the door and then to the ground. She was already feeling better as she blinked in their surroundings. She looked back at Rufus and Wyatt and saw that they too, while still looking like they might be sick, were at least standing upright.

"I guess the recovery time gets shorter each time," Wyatt commented.

"Lucky us," Rufus said dryly.

Lucy listened, but still looked around. "I think there's a road this way," she said, pointing to the east. "We can probably hitchhike to Long Island from there."

Wyatt nodded and took a deep breath. "Let's get going," he said, slowly starting in the direction she'd indicated. Rufus started a moment later, and Lucy fell into step beside them.


	2. Chapter 2

"Okay," Wyatt said as they walked down the road. "Assuming Flynn wants to stop Lindbergh, how would he go about doing it?"

""Maybe he'll sabotage the plane somehow?" Rufus offered. "Or…you know, kill him. That's always a possibility."

"We need to be ready for either," Lucy said. "Or for the possibility that we're wrong about why he's here. We need to get eyes on Lindbergh, eyes on the plane, and eyes on Flynn."

"So you're saying we should split up?" Wyatt asked. "I don't like that idea. Too many ways things could go wrong. Especially when we can't communicate with comms or something."

"I don't see how we have a choice," Lucy said. "We need to get to Roosevelt Field. That's where the plane is. Lindbergh will probably be there too, so we won't have to split up too much."

Wyatt sighed. "You'd better be right," he said.

Lucy nodded. "Lindbergh takes off just before eight tomorrow morning. We have until then to figure this out."

"So how far to the airfield?" Rufus asked.

"Not sure," Lucy said. She paused as she heard a vehicle coming up behind them. "Maybe we can catch a ride?"

"Alright, but let me do the talking," Wyatt said.

"You'll get no argument from me," Rufus muttered as he moved toward the side of the road.

They got to the side of the road and Wyatt waved to get the driver's attention. The car, a red Model T, slowed, backfiring a little as it stopped. There were two people in the car, a man and a woman, both in their mid-twenties.

"Can I help you?" the driver, the man, asked

"I hope so," Wyatt said, flashing his most charming smile. "We're trying to get to Roosevelt Field. Get a look at Lindbergh's flight, you know? Where are you folks heading?"

"As luck would have it, to Roosevelt Field," the woman said, flashing an equally charming smile back to Wyatt. "You folks need a ride?"

"If it's not too much trouble," Wyatt said.

"It beats you all walking there," the man said. "You might not make it before he takes off tomorrow morning."

Wyatt thanked him and opened the back door for Rufus and Lucy to climb in. It took a bit of doing, but they all managed to squeeze into the back seat.

Lucy watched the woman with a slight frown. There was something familiar about her, but she couldn't quite put her finger on exactly what it was. She looked over at Wyatt, who seemed unable to take his eyes off of her, with a similar look of confusion on his face.

The car started moving again, stirring them both from their thoughts on the woman sitting in the front seat.

"So you three want to see history being made?" the driver asked.

"Something like that," Rufus said, shifting a little to try to stop the door handle from digging into his kidney.

"Well, it'll happen either way," the driver continued. "Either Lindbergh makes it to Paris and we all celebrate, or, more likely, he crashes into the ocean and we mourn his death."

"He'll make it," Lucy said confidently.

"That's what I say," the blonde woman said, flashing Lucy a small smile before jerking her thumb at the man sitting next to her. "John here, he's a bit of a pessimist."

"And Miss Drummond is an incurable optimist," John said, rolling his eyes in an affectionate way.

Lucy's eyes widened as she realized how she knew the woman sitting in front of them. Kate Drummond. The reporter they'd met in New Jersey in 1937. The one who was killed by Flynn after the Hindenburg had come down. She looked to Wyatt and saw the recognition slowly dawn on him as well.

"You…You're Kate Drummond?" Rufus asked, also having recognized the name.

"Yeah," she replied. "You've heard of me?"

"Don't get carried away," John said. "They probably just saw your byline on the home life page."

"Oh, you're just jealous because they recognized me and not you," Kate teased. She turned to their passengers. "It would seem you have us at a bit of a disadvantage."

The three of them exchanged glances. "We…we do?" Lucy asked.

"Well you know our names, but we don't know yours," Kate said.

"Oh," Lucy said, letting out a small, embarrassed laugh. "I'm Lucy. These are my friends Wyatt and Rufus."

"Nice to meet you," John said, glancing over his shoulder at them.

"So…you're both journalists?" Wyatt guessed.

"Yep," John said. "I'm John Frogge, New York Times." Lucy resisted the urge to comment about how his name rhymed with vogue as he continued. "And you already know Kate from the Trenton State Gazette."

"Well…by reputation," Wyatt said, forcing a small smile.

"That's more than my editors give me half the time," Kate said. "I'll take it."

The rest of the ride to the airfield passed in relative silence, with only the occasional piece of small talk making its way into the car. When they arrived, John and Kate let the three of them out of the car and went to find a place to set up their cameras.

Rufus looked to Lucy. "Did you know she would be here?"

"No," Lucy said. "She…she doesn't become famous for another few years…I don't remember ever seeing anything about Lindbergh on her resume." She shook her head. "But it doesn't change anything."

"Doesn't change anything?" Wyatt asked, incredulous. "It changes everything. We could warn her. Tell her what goes down with the Hindenburg."

"You know we can't, and you know why," Lucy said. "You're the soldier. Our mission is Lindbergh. That's who we need to find. We know she lives another ten years. That's got to be good enough."

Wyatt took a deep breath, looking over to where Kate was setting up her camera. After a moment, he nodded slowly. "Alright," he said. "Let's go find Lindbergh."

"His plane's in the hangers," Lucy said. "This way." She turned and started toward the far side of the field.


	3. Chapter 3

Lucy, Wyatt and Rufus tried to remain as inconspicuous as possible as they made their way to the hanger which turned out to be locked.

"Makes sense," Lucy said when Rufus asked why. "There was kind of a race to be the first person across the Atlantic. Guess someone wants to make sure no one messes with the plane."

"If it's still locked, then Flynn isn't here," Wyatt said. "We need to keep looking."

"Or he came and went," Rufus countered. "We need to check the plane right? Make sure Flynn didn't sabotage it somehow?"

Wyatt took a deep breath and nodded. "Alright," he said. He glanced around, making sure the coast was clear before stepping back and kicking the door open with a bang. He then went inside, Lucy and Rufus close behind him.

The hanger was dimly lit and empty except for one lone airplane. Lucy stared in awe as they approached, unable to take her eyes off of it. "The Spirit of St. Louis," she whispered, smiling

"This is it," Rufus said, his voice full of as much awe as Lucy felt. "I…I used to go to the Smithsonian and look at this thing every chance I got…It's what made me want to be an engineer."

"Great," Wyatt said. "Can we focus, please? If Flynn was going to sabotage the plane, how would he do it?"

"Um…maybe puncture the fuel line?" Rufus suggested. "Or add some extra weight to the plane so it runs out of fuel faster."

Wyatt nodded. "Start checking," he said, nodding toward the plane. "Lucy and I will keep an eye out for Flynn. Or any other signs of trouble."

"I would appreciate that," Rufus said as he rolled up his sleeves. "I admire the hell out of the man, but I'm pretty sure he would not be happy to catch me messing around with his plane." He stepped toward the plane, ignoring the confused look on Wyatt's face.

The soldier looked to Lucy, who nodded back toward the door they'd come through, leading him away from the plane for a moment.

"Is there something you're not telling me about Lindbergh?" he asked once they were out of earshot of Rufus.

Lucy sighed. "Charles Lindbergh was a lot of things," she said. "A brilliant aviator for one. But…he was also a Fascist. Specifically, a Nazi sympathizer. Not…not in everything, not in the really bad stuff…but he did think Hitler had some good ideas about how to run his country." She let out a small sigh. "He was also against the US getting involved in World War two."

Wyatt gave a small nod. "Good to know," he said.

"Waytt," Lucy said, putting a hand on his shoulder. "This doesn't change anything. Not in regards to our mission."

"Sure," Wyatt said with another stiff nod. "Let's just get this guy off the ground and get the hell out of here," he said.

Lucy opened her mouth to protest further, but someone walking through the door interrupted her. "What the hell are you doing in here?" the man asked.

"We…we're inspecting the plane," Wyatt said. "Making sure it's ready for flight. Per Mr. Lindbergh's orders."

"Wyatt," Lucy hissed in a warning tone.

"Really?" the man said, folding his arms in front of his chest. He was tall and skinny with brown hair, combed toward the left side of his head. He had sharp cheek bones which led to a cleft chin, a pointed nose and narrow, almond shaped eyes. "Mr. Lindbergh's orders?" His tone clearly indicated that he didn't believe them.

"Yes," Wyatt said, ignoring Lucy's second warning.

The man looked them over for a moment. "Who are you?"

"Joe Hardy," Wyatt said. "This is my associate, Miss Nancy Drew," he added, gesturing to Lucy.

"And you're…aviation engineers?" he asked. "Can I see some form of identification?"

"Only if we can see yours," Wyatt countered.

"Wyatt," Lucy muttered again. "Please shut up."

"Don't worry, I can handle this," Wyatt replied, flashing a small smile before stepping over toward the man. "So," he said. "That identification?"

"I don't have to show you any identifitcation," the man said. "Because this is my hangar. And that is my plane. And I don't recall giving you orders to look at it."

Wyatt blinked in surprise. "You…You're Charles Lindgergh?" He looked back to Lucy who was giving him a 'maybe next time you'll listen to me' look. "Well…this…this is awkward," he said, slowly turning back to the pilot and putting on the most innocent looking smile he could manage. "I don't suppose you'll just let us out of here with a warning?" he asked.

"Why the hell would I do that?" Lindbergh asked.

Wyatt gave a small nod. "Yeah, I figured as much." Then, without warning, he curled his hand into a fist and threw a hard right cross, connecting with the pilot's jaw and sending him sprawling. He landed hard and didn't move.


	4. Chapter 4

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" Lucy exclaimed, hurrying forward to check on the aviator.

"I improvised," Wyatt said, shaking his sore hand. "We can't stop whatever the hell Flynn's up to from the inside of a jail cell."

Lucy stood with a small sigh. "He's out cold," she said. "We should get out of here before he comes to."

"No kidding," Wyatt said, turning toward the plane. "How's it going, Rufus?" he called.

"I'm done," the pilot said, moving around the plane and hurrying toward them. "No signs of sabotage," he said. "Nothing obvious anyway. No extra weights or fuel line nicks or anything…" he paused and looked at the body lying on the floor. "Is that…?"

"Charles Lindbergh," Lucy said as she moved toward the door. "We need to go. Now."

"No arguments here," Rufus said, hurrying to follow her. Wyatt brought up the rear, closing the door behind them.

"So now what?" Rufus asked as the trio attempted to casually make their way back across the airfield.

"We need to find Flynn," Wyatt said. "If he's not here, where is he?"

"A hotel?" Lucy suggested. "Or somewhere else in town."

Wyatt took a deep breath. "We should split up," he said after a moment.

"What?" Rufus asked. "That's not a good idea. Bad things happen when we split up."

"Bad things tend to happen to us anyway," Wyatt countered. "Rufus, you stay here and keep an eye on Lindbergh. There's a decent chance he didn't get a good look at you."

"And if he did?"

"Well…then you improvise," Wyatt said, adding a small smirk in an attempt to play it off as a joke.

"Great," Rufus said dryly. "And what will the two of you be doing in the meantime?"

"Looking for Flynn," Lucy said, glancing to Wyatt to make sure she was on the right track. He gave her a small nod and she continued. "We'll find him and find out what he's up to. Once we do that and we know how to stop him, we'll come find you."

Rufus looked between the two of them for a moment, and Lucy could clearly see in his eyes that he was attempting to come up with some kind of argument against this plan. After a moment, he let out a defeated sigh and nodded. "Fine," he said. "But just for the record, I hate this plan."

"Duly noted," Wyatt said. "Be careful, alright?"

"Of course I'm going to be careful," Rufus said, a hint of indignation in his voice. "I am not about to get myself stuck in a country two years out from the Great Depression."

Lucy gave him a small smile. "We would never let that happen," she said, putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"And not just because we need you to pilot the lifeboat," Wyatt added with another smirk. Both Rufus and Lucy turned and gave him looks that clearly told him what they thought of his comment.

"What?" he said. "I was kidding. Just, you know…trying to diffuse the tension."

Rufus nodded slowly. "Right," he said. "So...where do we meet up? Back here? Somewhere in the city?"

"Lindbergh had a room at the Biltmore Hotel in the city," Lucy said. "We'll meet up outside the hotel at eight. He should be back there by then. That'll give us about six hours to find out anything we can. Deal?"

Rufus nodded. "Sure," he said. "Biltmore Hotel, eight o'clock. I'll meet you there."

The trio gave each other final wishes of good luck and went their separate ways.

It took Lucy and Wyatt a couple of hours to reach the city. They'd hitched a ride with some other news people and had made small talk most of the way into town, attempting to find out if they'd seen Garcia Flynn. They hadn't seen anyone like that around the airfield, which just further deepened the mystery of why he'd come to 1927.

Once they'd reached the city, they got out of the car and started down the street. "Okay, madam historian," Wyatt said, glancing around. "New York, 1927. If Flynn's here, where would he be?"

"If he's here for Lindbergh, I'd guess the Biltmore," Lucy said. "It's about three blocks south of here."

"As good a place to start as any," Wyatt said, starting in that direction. "Any other thoughts if he's not there?"

"Not right off the top of my head," Lucy said. "But we'll cross that bridge when we get to it."

"Play it by ear," Wyatt said with small nod. "Not my favorite plan."

"I know. But we don't know enough to form a more concrete plan."

Wyatt gave another nod and continued down the street, Lucy right beside him. They walked the rest of the way to the hotel in silence, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. Once inside, they made their way to the front desk.

"Excuse me," Wyatt said to the young man behind the desk, giving him a small smile.

"Yes, sir?" the young man said.

"My name is Clark Kent and this is my friend Diana Prince," Wyatt said, introducing himself and Lucy. "We're reporters from The Daily Planet and are here to meet a friend. A tall man, dark hair, Eastern European accent. His name is Garcia Flynn. He said he was staying here. Could you tell us what room he's in?"

"You can just check our register," the young man said, giving Wyatt a slightly confused look. "Just over there." He pointed at a large book on the corner of the front desk.

"Right," Wyatt said. "Thank you." Lucy gave the young man a small smile as they started toward the register.

"Clark Kent?" she asked quietly as Wyatt started skimming the names in the book.

"I've always wanted to be Superman," he said with a small shrug.

"Yeah, well…thanks for making me Wonder Woman," she said, moving to look at the register.

"I figured you'd like that better than being Batgirl," he smirked.

Lucy was about to respond when she noticed something odd. "I found him," she said, pointing to a name.

"Alan Turing?" Wyatt read. "Wasn't that the guy who broke the Nazi code in World War Two?"

"Yeah," Lucy said. "And given that, right now, Turning's about 15 and living in London, I doubt he's checking into a hotel in New York."

"Safe bet," Wyatt said, looking back to the register. "According to this, he's in room 55. I'll go check it out. You stay down here in case something happens."

Lucy nodded. "Just…be careful. Okay, Superman?"

"I always am," Wyatt said with another confident smirk as he started toward the elevator.


	5. Chapter 5

Lucy watched Wyatt make his way up stairs to go to Flynn's room. Once he was out of sight, she turned and made her way to a more or less isolated corner of the hotel lobby to keep an eye out for any sign of trouble.

She hadn't been waiting for more than ten minutes when the first familiar face walked through the doors. Lucy let out a small gasp as she recognized Lindbergh and quickly turned away before he could see her. After a moment she dared a glance over her shoulder and let out a small sigh of relief as she saw him heading toward the stairs, presumably to his room. As long as he didn't run into Wyatt on the way up, there wouldn't be a problem.

Before she could dwell on that too much, she spied Rufus, now wearing a slightly baggy bellhop uniform, step into the lobby. She casually made her way over to him, giving him a small nod as she approached. "Was there any trouble?" she asked quietly as she guided him to the side of the room.

"Not unless you count the police putting out warrants for the man and woman that attacked Mr. Lindbergh," Rufus said dryly. "Where's Wyatt?"

Lucy paused as a couple walked past them. "Flynn's got a room upstairs. Wyatt went up to check it out." She glanced to the large grandfather clock on the other side of the lobby. "That was about tem minutes ago. He should be back down any minute now."

"Assuming Flynn didn't catch him snooping around," Rufus commented. "I assume the plan is to wait here and reassess when Wyatt gets back?"

"Pretty much," Lucy said. "Did you see any sign of Flynn while you were out there?"

"Maybe," Rufus said. "I didn't see Flynn, but I thought I saw one of his goons out at the airfield, mingling with the crowd that gathered after Lindbergh called the police. I tried to follow him, but I lost him in the crowd."

Lucy nodded, letting out a small sigh. "We're still in square one when it comes to figuring out what Flynn's doing here."

"Maybe Lindbergh's a red herring?" Rufus suggested. "I mean…sure he's the most famous game in town at the moment, but it's not like there's nothing else here he could manipulate. Maybe he wants to kick-start the Great Depression a couple of years early?"

Lucy was about to answer when movement across the lobby caught her eye. Turning slightly to get a better look, she let out a small gasp. "Flynn," she whispered to Rufus.

The pilot tensed, glancing over his shoulder to see that their target had just walked into the hotel lobby with a small group of well-dressed men. "Who's he with?" he asked as they turned and made their way toward a door in the back of the hotel lobby, just past the main staircase.

"Mafia," Lucy whispered.

Rufus' head whipped around and she noted the increased fear in his eyes. "How do you know that?"

"See that big one trailing behind Flynn?"

Rufus looked again, making note of the olive-skinned man. He wasn't particularly tall, but what he lacked in height, he made up for in a solid build and a scowl on his face. Clearly, this was a man not to be messed with. "Who is he?"

"That's Giuseppe Massiera, or as he's going to come to be known, 'Joe the Boss.' He's an up and comer in the Mafia. Over the next two years he's going to take out most of the higher-ups in the mafia and end up running the whole thing. For a few years, anyway," she added.

Rufus frowned. "What the hell is Flynn doing with a future mob boss?"

"I don't know, but they're not going back to the room just yet," Lucy said. "Once they're out of the lobby, we go upstairs and find Wyatt. We need to regroup if we're going up against the mafia."

"Understatement of the year," Rufus said before turning and starting across the lobby, trying to keep his pace casual. Lucy followed a few steps behind, keeping her eyes on Flynn as they crossed the lobby.

Flynn seemed to be on good terms with his band of Mafia goons, smiling as he held the door open and gestured them through, likely to some sort of underground bar.

He was just guiding the last one through the door when a voice rang out across the lobby. "Lucy!"

The historian tensed as Flynn looked up, his eyes meeting hers in mild surprise. Whatever element of surprise they'd had was now gone. A small smile spread across his face as he ducked through the door.

Lucy turned to see who had called her name and saw Kate Drummond waving at her as she made her way across the lobby. She let out a small sigh and turned to Rufus, who was stopped a few steps up, looking at her for instruction.

"Find Wyatt," Lucy said, keeping her voice low. "Room 55. Tell him what we saw. I'll catch up to you."

Rufus hesitated for a moment, then nodded before turning and starting up the stairs.


	6. Chapter 6

Rufus hurried up the stairs, trying not to panic as he searched for Wyatt. He understood how important their mission was, but he really hated the danger they constantly found themselves in. Flynn and his goons were bad enough, but now they were teaming up with mobsters? And, to make matters worse, Flynn now knew they were here to stop him.

"This just keeps getting better and better," he muttered as he turned to head down yet another hallway. He scanned the doors, looking for room 55. Or Wyatt. Or both.

He was about to give up on this floor and move to the next one when he turned a corner and found himself staring down the barrel of a pistol. He let out a cry of surprise only to have it disappear almost immediately. A face came into focus and he let out an audible sigh of relief. "Damn it, Wyatt!" he exclaimed. "Don't do that!"

"Sorry," Wyatt said as he holstered his pistol. "I didn't know it was you. What's going on? Where's Lucy?"

"She's downstairs with Kate Drummond," Rufus said. "Flynn's here too."

Wyatt stiffened a little at that. "Where?"

"Downstairs. In some kind of secret backroom meeting with the mob."

"The mob?" Wyatt asked, skeptically. "Are you sure?"

"Lucy was," Rufus replied with a small nod. "She recognized one of the men Flynn was with. He's some sort of up-and-comer. Going to end up running the whole thing in a couple years."

Wyatt nodded slowly as he processed that. "Okay…so what's Flynn doing with someone like that? What does he have to do with Lindbergh?"

"No idea," Rufus said with a small shrug. "Did you find anything in Flynn's room?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary," Wyatt said, reaching into his jacket's pocket. "Just a list of names next to a typewriter. Some of them are familiar." He pulled out a folded piece of paper and handed it to the pilot. Rufus took it and quickly unfolded it, scanning the names Flynn had typed there.

"Charles Lindbergh, John Rockefeller Jr., Omar Bradley, Igor Sikorsky…" he paused, looking up to Wyatt with a small frown. "Why do those names sound familiar?"

"They're the same people Flynn tried to kill on the Hindenburg," Wyatt said. "Or…tries to kill, since that doesn't actually happen for another ten years. Because, you know…time travel."

"There's another dozen or so names here," Rufus said. "We need to get this to Lucy," he continued as he folded up the paper and stuck it in his pocket. "She can help explain what the hell is going on here."

"My thoughts exactly," Wyatt said. "You said she was with Kate downstairs?"

Rufus nodded, turning to lead him back toward the stairs. "There's one more thing," he said as he walked. "Flynn knows we're here."

Wyatt frowned. "What? How?"

"We made the mistake of giving Kate our real names," Rufus said. "She saw Lucy across the lobby as we were spying on Flynn and called her name. There's no way Flynn didn't hear it."

Wyatt muttered a curse before taking a deep breath to focus. "Did he see you?" he asked.

"I don't think so," Rufus said. "But it's a safe bet that if he knows Lucy's here he's going to be keeping an eye out for us. We're kind of a package deal."

"Like the Three Musketeers," Wyatt said. "Or the three stooges," he added with a small smirk.

"Something like that, yeah," Rufus said with a small nod. He started down the stairs, Wyatt on his heels. When they reached the lobby, they looked around for Lucy.

"There she is," Wyatt said after a moment, spying her across the lobby, having a discussion with Kate Drummond.

"Come on, you're going to witness history tomorrow," they heard Kate say as they approached. "We should go out and enjoy ourselves before we have to run around reporting on it."

"I wish I could," Lucy said. "But I need to stay here."

"But why?"

"How's it going?" Wyatt said, announcing their presence.

Lucy turned, looking relieved to see him. "Wyatt," she said, smiling.

Kate looked between the two of them. "Oh, I see," she said with a small nod. She gave Lucy a small smile, but behind it Wyatt thought he saw hints of disappointment.

"No, it's…it's not like that," Lucy said. "It's just –"

Kate cut her off with a wave of her hand. "It's fine," she said with a small nod. "I'll see you out at the airfield tomorrow." Before either Lucy or Wyatt could say anything, she turned and walked toward the stairs, heading toward her room.

"What was that about?" Wyatt asked.

"She wanted to go out on the town," Lucy said with a small sigh. "She was…rather persistent." She shook her head. "Did you find anything in Flynn's room?"

"Yeah," Wyatt said. "But we should probably discuss this somewhere a little more private."

Lucy nodded. "I ended up getting us a room while you were upstairs," she said, holding up a key.

"Sounds good," Wyatt said. "Lead the way."

Once they were upstairs in the privacy of the hotel room, Wyatt gestured to Rufus, who pulled out the list and gave it to Lucy. "He had this list in his room. A couple copies of it, actually."

Lucy looked at the list, frowning. "Bradley, Sikorsky, Rockefeller…Flynn's going after them again?"

"Looks that way," Rufus said. "You think they'd be in town for the big event? Along with everyone else on this list?"

Lucy thought about it and nodded. "Probably," she said. "Dorothy Chapman's a journalist, going to be editor of Vogue magazine one day. Walter Lippman, Paul Anderson, Ernie Pyle,...most of these names are journalists of varying influence over the next few decades."

She started pacing the room as she continued to talk. "They'll all be in one place for him to try again. But with this many people in an open field…he's not going to be able to do it with a bomb like on the Hindenburgh. Not with the same kind of…you know, certainty."

"Okay, so…how does the mob fit into this?" Wyatt asked. "Why is Flynn meeting with them?"

"Access to guns?" Lucy suggested. "Manpower? Both?"

Rufus sat down on the bed, looking really worried. "So…we're thinking that Flynn is allying with the mob to kill, not just Lindbergh, but a dozen or so influential people to throw history into chaos?"

"Looks like it," Wyatt said with a small sigh. "At least now we know why he's here."

Lucy nodded, turning to face both of the men. "And we have to stop him."


End file.
